I leaned in close to the shopping list on the kitchen counter. My foot tapped the floor as I tried to remember all the random items I wanted to get from the store.
"Trashcan for the main room."
"Storage for sweaters."
"Warm weather clothes."
Suddenly I blinked and leaned back. Looked over my shoulder uneasily and then back at the list. The handwriting was tiny.
After 24 years of knowing one another I've become rather good at noticing the warning signs I give off. I begin to wear my hair long (hiding behind it), I wear makeup more often (mask) and my handwriting becomes tiny (no idea). These stages... There's got to be a name for it. The I-doubt-myself-and-give-others-too-much-power-over-my-self-esteem stage. For the last year or so my confidence has been completely shot. Perhaps it's been longer. It has been awhile since I felt really sure of myself.
Need to get my confidence back. My handwriting depends on it.
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2 comments:
*hugs*
Voice from the not so distant past...
Why questioning all the time? No one should ever feel grounded necessarily, or at least not content for the sake of being so. It's the sense of uncertainty that lends itself to interesting lives. If I felt like I think I should, I'd have nothing to dream about. Nothing to pursue against my better judgement. Where's the fucking fun in that?
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